The next day, Remy was sore after he'd climbed out of his room. Getting dressed had been a bit of a struggle. It wasn't until after he'd wandered some, eaten, that the intake of kinetic energy from moving had begun to restore some of his vitality and relieve some of the soreness. A woman like Arclight was a handful on her own, but with her and Vertigo at once.. it was a miracle he was walking today. There was also a queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach, at how easily Vertigo had went along with it, as if it was accepted practice. More likely, he figured she just didn't know any better.

Arclight had been another matter though. When she'd first arrived, he'd felt a touch of fear in her. She hadn't talked or hinted at it, but why would there be any fear in her? What had happened in the few months it'd taken him to gather all of these people for Sinister? What was going on in this place.

Frowning, he left the kitchen and sought out Essex. The man was in his lab, as usual. He noticed Harpoon eying him almost fearfully, a widening of his eyes as Remy calmly walked into Sinister's lab as if he had every right to be there. Were the others kept under tighter reigns then he was? Something was off about all of this.

"LeBeau. You're growing stronger, if you are up and walking again already." A barb like that should've came with a smile. Sinister was just noting that he'd gotten more adept at using his kinetic energies to power himself, and was pleased with that, rather then any crude joke about his escapdes of the night before.

Oh lord, let it be dat. If he's getting interested in my sex life, I don't t'ink I ever be able to get it up again. Last t'ing I need is pale pasty freak trying to breed me wit' someone. Seems like something he do.

His lack of an answer or quip, he realized, had Sinister looking at him frowning. Of course, Remy had no idea that the frown was because Sinister was annoyed that the young mans psi-shields, combined with his kinetic static aura, blocked even him from his mind unless he resorted to expending so much effort there was no way Remy could not notice it. Troublesome, yet necessary if LeBeau was going to be of any use to him.

"Sorry, was just t'inkin bout Vertigo. Dat femme.. she got de best thighs, makes ya wanna jus' run ya fingers along de curve of her hips, or grip dem an.." A shrug of the cajuns shoulders, and an impish grin was turned towards Sinister.

Who just frowned at him a bit more. Then gestured for the young man to join him up on the raised dias that represented the control consoles of Sinister's labs.

"Have you decided on a name for yourself as I told you?"

"Oi. Gambit."

Sinister actually looked surprised at that choice, he thought to himself happily. Hopefully the man wouldn't realize everything now had become a gambit, a reckless risk that he just hoped he could turn into his favor down the line. Sinister was really starting to creep him the hell out.

"How appropriate. Very well, Gambit. I have a number of tasks I require of you. Most of them you will be able to accomplish alone, but on some I will send one or two of your recruits with you. Simple missions, quiet beneath a thief of your skill, but I require a number of things to be acquired to continue my research. You will acquire them for me."

It was not a question, Remy noticed quite quickly. He just nodded, and waited for what would come. Stealing. He knew stealing. That wasn't so bad.

"You will also use these missions to break in your team mates. You will take one or two of them with you except on the missions where their stealth is a liability to you." That wording gnawed at the cajun. As if Sinister didn't care what happened to the others, but for some reason Remy was important to him, or of far more value. Why? Because he was the first one Sinister found?

"Here is the initial mission." A file was handed over to him. "You will take Arclight and Scrambler with you. In the future, the rest of your missions and details will be uploaded to the console in your quarters. If you have questions, you may come and see me. Otherwise, I am not to be disturbed, I am in the midst of very important work."

The cajun frowned, but nodded again. It was better to just give him answers he wanted, not to say more, until he knew what was going on.

"You will, however, come to see me each day you are present and not on a mission. Your training is lacking in one finale department, Gambit. You must improve upon your hacking abilities, for it will be required in future assignments. 10am."

The cajun frowned at that contradiction. No one was allowed to disturb him, but he was to spend time with Essex each day learning how to hack a computer? It was rare that Essex taught anyone personally Remy knew. He hadn't even bothered with the others, at least according to Arclight. Just one of his assistants had done so. This was getting odder, and odder.

That was the way it went for almost eight months. Covert ops style missions. Not all of them were stealing though. Oh, initially they were. But slowly they were coming to represent more cover and combat orientation. Slowly he'd brought his 'team' to heel, as well. Even Grey Crow deferred to him, but he didn't do it out of fear, the way the others seemed to. Even Creed listened to him, and the threats were few and far between. Which was a very awkward situation.

More awkward, had been his relationship, if one could call it that, with Essex. The man spent time with him regularly. Teaching him how to bypass any kind of computer systems, how to get past things they hadn't even known how to sidestep in the Guilds. He wasn't as good as Essex was, but he was good enough. Yet that wasn't the end of it. When he'd become as good as Essex declared was 'good enough', their sessions had turned into philsophy discussions. Into political discussions. If Remy hadn't been a con man himself, he'd never have known those sessions for what they were.

Sinister was trying to teach him. To elevate his thinking beyond the horizons he'd seen in the Guilds. Which was in itself disturbing, but more so was the fact those discussions didn't happen in his labs anymore. Instead they happened in Sinister's private dining area, and no one ever disturbed him. No one else was even allowed into that room – except in extreme emergency, beyond the young dull eyed servant who served out their meals.

It scared Remy. Scared him a lot, because Sinister seemed to be trying to be his mentor.

While the team listened to him, did whatever he said, he'd also become aware of a growing resentment. Four months in, he'd begun to sense it even in Vertigo. She came to his bed regularly still, alone now. Arclight had stopped coming when he'd felt she didn't want to be there, and he'd sent her away. She'd been about to cry when he sent her away, and he didn't understand why, and no one would tell him when he inquired. Not even Grey Crow.

He didn't even understand Vertigo's resentment. She loved him, but she resented him for some reason. Because he wasn't totally faithful to her? Because he went out on the town and dallied with others? His 'friendship' with Essex? He had no clue, but as time wore on, he began to see a cruel streak forming in the once innocent woman. A vicious cruel streak. Never aimed at him though, but always at others.

Still, she was a warm body, she loved him, and nights spent with her were enjoyable. Even if the cruel streak was a turn off, she had improved remarkably from the first clumsy attempts she'd made at love making, to a true vixen in the sack. Perhaps it was a weakness, but he loved to caress her thighs, or feel those hard nipples of her dragging against his chest. For the longest time, he counted her as one of the few enjoyments in his life.

That ended after their most recent mission.

South America. It was a full team job, one of the irregular ones. Usually at most it was four or five of them, but this was a military complex and Sinister wanted only two things. The data from their mainframe, and the total destruction of the complex. Which sat ill with Remy, until Sinister had shown him the files, the videos, and then he had simply nodded. They experimented on mutants in that place, did awful awful things to them.

Things that he couldn't allow to keep happening. What was a little spilled blood of the guilty, in comparison the innocent blood on his hands?

That was how the thief had found himself staring as fire engulfed buildings, as he watched Vertigo take down a whole platoon of soldiers by herself. Watched Creed leaping and dashing between opponents, happily showing his teeth and claws. Even more happily using them to gore people. Scalphunter stood upon one of the buildings, firing rounds from his odd sniper rifle. Harpoon threw those energy spears of his, decimating groups of four or five men at a time.

Perhaps most impressive was Arclight, when she slammed her hands together and pulverized a tank with the seismic forces she unleashed. The impressive part however, was when she strode forward, grasped the tank in her hands, and hurled it into a building – taking out over half of a barracks. Remy swallowed.

"Gambit, ya gonna give any orders?" Scrambler asked from besides him, as the two exited the command center. They'd gotten the data while the others provided 'distractions'. Scrambler had been mostly useless, except in making sure no data remained for whoever might come after though. It'd been the thief himself who'd had to take out all the Guards inside the building. Sinister's training was still in full show though, he'd dispatched military men as if they were kids. Perhaps for the first time, the cajun was brutually aware of how skilled he'd become. He'd surpassed masters level in most of his fighting styles, and was well above the Elite status of most Special Ops military commandos.

He swallowed though, at the destruction he saw unleashed. Scrambler didn't seem bothered by it though, he just didn't partake. Because he was physically weak, and didn't want to get himself hurt no doubt.

Off to his left, he heard the sounds that could only be Riptide laying into an armory. As hundreds of super hard resin spikes struck ammo with enough impact to begin setting it off. Smoke rose from that direction, and the cajun shook his head.

Then tapped the button that'd transmit to each of the others headsets.

"Data aquired. Finish dis base off so we can get out of here. Don't wanna be here when backup arrives."

"What about the runners, cajun?" Creed. Of course it was Creed.

"If Scalphunter can't pick dem off, forget about dem."

"He said no survivors cajun. Ya let em get away, and you can tell Him it was yer orders."

Gambit shook his head, sighed. "Scalphunter? Can ya pick off de runners?"

"Already on it, boss. Only ones out of range."

"One won't matter." He said decisively. A few of the team looked at him in askance, but no one questioned it. They'd learned obedience – somewhere, and Remy's word was law on missions like this and they knew it.

The killing, the killing was bad enough. What he wasn't prepared for was what was happening as the conflict began to settle down. His teammates didn't stop their destruction – they weren't supposed to, not on the base itself, but they were going out of their way to kill the few remaining soldiers painfully. Or to desecrate those already dead.

What wrung his heart the most was seeing Vertigo using a piece of shrapnel from an earlier explosion while she hacked at a corpse. He expected it from Creed, but from Vertigo? Not his pale little green haired Vertigo. Before he could even say anything to her, she'd moved on to a soldier who'd just been wounded... and began to torture him. Only Scalphunter seemed above the desecration, walking wearily amongst the dead and just cutting whoever's throat who hadn't died yet. At least he was quick, efficient, it was almost a mercy compared to the others.

Gambit closed his eyes, hard. Aware that in whatever direction he looked, he was going to see the same. Even Scrambler had gone out to join in, now that the threat to him was almost minimal. Remy focused on holding the contents of his stomach, then stormed into the haze of fires, and began to make sure the real job was finished. Blowing up the rest of the base.

He'd never been so relieved to see one of Sinister's portals open before, and for them all to jump into it. Of course, Creed spoke up once they were in. "Cajun let one get away." Not to Sinister, but he was looking at Arclight as he said it. Arclight studiously did not meet his gaze.

Sinister looked unperturbed however. He merely gestured for them all to go.

"A job well done. Gambit, I will speak with you later for debriefing. Creed, you and I will talk now." All of the others seemed to shiver as they strode off. To clean up, to eat, whatever. In Gambit's case, it was to take a long shower. One he very much hoped Vertigo did not try and join him for, for once.

It was hours later, when cleaned up and feeling a little more relaxed, he wandered the clean halls of Sinister's complex. He'd always wondered how big it was, but even he didn't know. There were partial schematics he'd seen, which made the place look huge. But those odd Tesseract portals littered the base to other places. Who knew how big, and how much of the world, Sinister's reach extended too.

"Why you looking so glum, Gambit?" He blinked, startled for a moment at Arclight's voice. He offered a grin to the purple haired woman. She rarely spoke with him these days, except on missions, or to play a game of cards with him and Grey Crow.

"Oh, just t'inking chere. Ya know. Things.."

"Ya disturbed about what your little China Doll was doing today, aren't ya?" She asked, a curious look. No jealous from Arclight. Just pity.

"Well.. yea. She was innocent when I met here, an now.. now she something else." Gambit couldn't clarify, just let it hang there.

Surprisingly, Arclight nodded. "She's what He made her into cajun. We all are. Maybe even you."

A tilt of his head, a questioning look given to her. A lack of comprehension almost clear in the cajuns eyes. "Whatcha mean by dat? Her, and 'maybe even me'? An why ya all call Sinister Him?"

It'd bothered him, but it'd taken him a while to notice. They called Gambit boss, or sir. They called Essex him. As if he were God. They never even addressed him unless he spoke to them first. What power did Sinister hold over them all? What threat? What fear? Or were they truly that respectful of him? He found it hard to imagine any of these people, most of them were murderers, being respectful to someone.

To his bafflement, Arclight laughed. Then looked at him as if she'd never seen him before. "You really don't know.. Scalphunter said you didn't, but... Oh cajun. I might've kept coming to your bed if I'd known that, and me and Scalphunter..." She trailed off, but she had reached out and ruffled his hair the way she used to after they'd slept together and she was especially happy with his performance.

Then she looked shocked at what she'd done, and took a deep breath, scanning the halls. No one else was around, but Gambit knew that already without even looking.

"Don't know what?"

"Cajun.. If you don't know, I'm not going to tell you. "

"... Philippa.." Maybe that plea in his tone would draw it out of her? Her face softened, then stiffened, and she shook her head.

"Sorry cajun."

"Where's Creed?" Creed would tell him. Creed didn't care about rules, he'd do it just to jab a knife into him, if it was as bad as he was beginning to think it would be.

Arclight frowned. "He's probably still with Him. Based on past examples, I guess we won't see him for another four or five hours." She shrugged. "Gotta go, Gambit. Scalphunter's waiting on me. He always says I take too long, and this time it wasn't even my fault.." A reluctant smile, and she drifted off.

Before she'd even gotten 10 steps, the intercom of the base sounded. "Gambit, please report to the dining room for your debriefing with Doctor Essex." Not Sinister's voice. One of the lab assistants, who almost stumbled over Essex's name.

Time to get some answers. Had enough of dis cloak and dagger mysterious crap..

The dining room was as perfect as ever. The table set perfectly, the china worth enough he'd often considered stealing it. The silverware old, but in remarkable condition. In short, perfect. Essex liked his private places to be perfect, or his version of perfect, Remy imagined.

Seated across from the man, he toyed lightly with his fork after flipping a piece of steak into his mouth. Food was always good, but it tasted like ash in his mouth this time.

"You're unusually quiet this evening, Gambit. It's very unbecoming of you. What is pulling on your thoughts? Sabretooth's daring to question your orders?" Sinister inquired lightly. For these meals, he always wore the pale faced image of a Doctor, not his quite as scary visage of Sinister. Remy knew the other was the truth though, so the little deception did nothing to lighten his mood.

"Non. Didn't bother me none, him questionin. Ya gave an order, an I changed dat. Figure dat an allowable kinda t'ing, non?"

Sinister seemed to consider this for a moment. "True, you did fail to meet my requirement of no survivors. However one survivor matters little, and the other order, the permanent order, is that they obey you."

Oh so dat's what dis is about. Mebbe dey ain't wrong, mebbe I am just ya pet on a lesh, or ya favorite. Dat's gotta be what all dat resentment from dem means, or de whispers dey don't think I can hear. Why it matter to him so much if they don't follow me without question?

"Yeah.. so, ya happy wit' de mission? I didn't like it. De 'activites' dey perpetrated after we pretty much won. Torture an desecrating corpses.. dat's a bit much, even from my lil band of Marauders."

Sinister had been eying him thoughtful while he spoke, then almost smiled at his last words. A thoughtful look passing through his mind. Of course, Remy had no idea that's what the team was actually called. Only the others knew it, and Sinister had explained revealing anything to Gambit Sinister didn't want him to know would be met with pain of death. Very very painful pain of death. Just as ignoring Gambit's orders ended the same way. He could just clone them again, after all.

"Marauders. A fitting name for your band. We shall keep it." Sinister nodded. That nod that said he'd spoken, and arguing with him would be pointless. While Remy could sometimes get his way, or was allowed to, Sinister ultimately did what he wanted unless it was a very very compelling argument. Arguing over a name seemed unimportant.

Specially over a name of something dat I intend to be quitting real soon.

"An about de .. t'ings I mentioned?"

Essex frowned. "People will be people, Mr. LeBeau. You cannot expect mercenaries to act like civilized people. That is what they are, mercenaries, paid for and fighting for our cause."

"Bout dat.. 'our cause'. How much longer I gotta work for ya, before we even? Before de debt I got to ya be cancelled?"

Essex laughed at that. That grating horrible laugh. Accompanied by the smile. Remy felt like his stomach was going to hurl all of it's contents onto the table. The man was a master at unnerving people, and this was worse then seeing the Marauders doing their business back at that base.

"Hmm. You have served me for over a year now, Mr LeBeau. I learned much from training you that I did not previously know, and your scans were extremely useful in my research. You have recruited for me, lead for me. If it is your desire to leave us, I will call your debt paid."

Remy heaved a sigh of relief. Until Essex opened his mouth again.

"However, if you go on one more mission, I will provide you one last boon LeBeau."

"Que?" What did have have to offer that'd make him stay? Remy had no clue.

"If you lead the next mission, I will restore your love, Belladonna, back to life."

Blood had left Remy's face. His hands had clamped on the arms of his chair. His heart pounding. His mind rushing. He could.. he could do that? Belladonna? Return her to life, from whatever had killed her? How? Why? Why didn't he mention this earlier?

"An.. an she be my Bella? Have all her memories, still love me, I have my wife back, 'xactly de way she was?" This had to be a trick, but Sinister didn't lie. Not when he was making a deal.

"Yes. She will be exactly as she was."

"Den I do it." No hesitation at all. Not to have Bella back into his life, to have his wife back. How would he face her with what he'd become? She could help him find redemption. Sinister surely hadn't. He'd done things, bad things; supposedly for the greater good. Yet somehow, Remy had the feeling the greater good just happened to coincide with Sinister's research agenda.

"I warn you, the next mission will be darker then your previous ones."

"Don' matter, not if you give Bella back to me."

Sinister smiled. Remy shivered. He'd just sold his soul again. Dis time, dis time. I do it for you, Bella. No matter what it be.

Authors Note: Dun dun dun... Will Remy go Evil for Belladonna's ressurection, or will he finally display the heart of a hero?